Night walkers

At the end of years in the dark
somewhere in the beginning of dry season
i saw tree that was once solely on terrace
waving her branches to seasonal winds
& giving its flowers to keep them going
it was just a night in a year
after thousand nights in years
that she couldn't see breeze
not even from the nostrils of a baby

there, i couldn't see the footprints of their last visit
for they were buried by the rain that followed their steps
& even the grounds were far asleep
before they arrived again
& there, the dried-broken branches
greeted in silence
because they were used to those winds fragrance